


The Battle

by Iorhael



Category: Alexander (2004)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-19
Updated: 2012-09-19
Packaged: 2017-11-14 14:16:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/516100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iorhael/pseuds/Iorhael
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to my fic Crunch, where Hephaestion preferred an olive over Alexander.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Battle

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Sunday Dec 4, 2005, PWP (Plot-what-plot?) Basically porn y'all. Preferably under a thousand words. Betaed and reviewed by trust_n0_1.

Hephaestion gasped and his closed lids flew open. A hand seized his wrist all of a sudden, nothing painful or tight or fast. In fact, those fingers felt more like a caress, soft and lathery. A bead of olive slipped from between his thumb and forefinger at a tickle on his palm. A smile formed in his eyes and on his lips.

“Alexander,” he sighed as a tug he made to release his hand proved utterly in vain.

“That’s enough,” Alexander’s voice was husky.

“Pardon me, Your Highness?” asked the Macedonian; his eyes looked completely lost.

“You’ve had enough olives tonight,” the great King explained, a finger of his other hand rubbing over a drop of oil Hephaestion was not aware of trickling down from a corner of his lips.

“And I would rather something else dripped out of your mouth than marinated oil,” Alexander growled lowly.

Hephaestion smirked and tilted his head up slightly, stirring his velvety midnight-hued tresses. That was the only motion he made, though, as he still trained himself to be seated on his folded legs on the marble floor of their bedroom. Something glinted in his eyes – an unspoken challenge – and Alexander could not help himself but tighten his grasp over his lover’s wrist. Hephaestion’s strangled whimper only served to excite Alexander more. He pulled Hephaestion up, bringing him to his knees, bent slightly and murmured in the other’s ear.

“Do you know I have nothing under my robe?”

Hephaestion nodded frantically, a bit too enthusiastically for Alexander’s liking, but the King could not care less.

“Do you know what that suggests to you?”

Hephaestion smiled widely.

“Your Highness feels covetous … of the olives?” He kept his tone formally teasing nonetheless. “Or he wants to prove himself – to show that he tastes better than the fruit?”

Alexander groaned. He could not stand it anymore. He let go of Hephaestion’s hand and shrugged the cape off his shoulders, revealing soft planes and muscled mounds on a body Hephaestion had known too well. And it was his turn to groan.

The dark-haired man swiftly shifted forward on his knees and stopped short before Alexander. Facing up and placing both his hands on the King’s hips, Hephaestion batted a pair of long lashes.

“Are you prepared for the battle, Your Majesty?” he slurred as he stuck out his tongue. An orb of dark-green olive was rolling amidst the wetness that was the blend of oil and saliva. Alexander did not wait for long. The olive (and Hephaestion) could certainly do with another kind of fluid.


End file.
